


Who I've Become Without You

by Anonymous



Category: Junjou Romantica
Genre: Ijuuin is actually best boy and I love him, M/M, Misaki grew up, Misaki loves Usagi but some things have to change, Parental Misaki, Usagi has to grow up too, What if the Avengers snap hit the Junjou Romantica universe?, but i couldn't get it out of my head, five years apart, kind of a weird concept
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26882584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Five years ago, half of the world vanished in the blink of an eye.Misaki had to learn how to move on.  To fulfill new roles, start new relationships, and pursue his career.  But then, everyone comes back.  Reunited with Usagi-san, Misaki's new life starts crumbling down.Should he really go back?  All of the problems with their relationship, forgotten in the wake of mourning his lover, rear their heads as Misaki and Usagi come to terms with the fact that Misaki is not the fearful and hesitant boy Usagi knew.
Relationships: Takahashi Misaki/Usami Akihiko
Comments: 13
Kudos: 71
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

He was at Marukawa, of all places, when it happened. 

Coffee breaks with Aikawa-san had become a regular, and welcome, part of his day ever since he was promoted to be Ijuuin-san's chief editor. Groaning about deadlines and swapping gossip about their projects was fun, even with the memories it dredged up. 

It was hard not to think of him, then. Of tussling in bed as Misaki scolded and begged him to think of his deadlines. Of coupons and cold hands and eyes that gleamed. 

Aikawa-san never pushed, when she noticed his melancholy. When words seemed to fail him, and his smile became too forced. No, she always understood, and bear buns would always appear on his desk before he left for the day. 

It wasn’t one of those days when it happened. 

Misaki stood and bowed to Aikawa-san, face flushed from laughing as he scooped up his coffee mug. She glared at him as she stood as well, unable to hide the twitching of her lips as she scolded him. 

“You are cruel to tease me so, Misaki-kun,” She complained. “Just because you work so well with Mr. Ijuuin doesn’t mean the rest of us are so lucky. I don’t think he’s ever missed a deadline with you as his editor!” 

“I’ve always known how to motivate him,” Misaki said. Then he flushed, realizing how that sounded as Aikawa erupted into peals of laughter. 

“I mean . . . I didn’t. . . that’s not what I meant.” 

“I know, Misaki-kun,” She waved a dismissive hand as she turned to the coffee machine. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yes? I want to hear how the new arc is coming along.” 

Misaki smiled and waved good-bye as he left the room. He had just made it out the door when Aikawa-san screamed, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass. 

“Aikawa-san!” 

He rushed back in the room, the scene taking a moment to register. A man stood with his back to him, much too close to Aikawa-san to be considered appropriate. Shards of Aikawa’s mug lay scattered in a pool of spilled coffee. 

“Hey!” MIsaki shouted, his hands shaking. Who was this man? How had he gotten in the room so quickly? 

Then, the man turned, and the air left Misaki’s lungs as though he’d been punched. 

“Shorty?” Mr. Isaka said, bemused. “Why are you here? I like the new haircut.” 

It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room. Misaki couldn’t move. He wasn’t entirely sure he was breathing, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when there was a dead man looking between him and Aikawa-san with raised eyebrows. 

“Mr. Isaka?” Aikawa-san said faintly, clutching at the counter. Her eyes were huge in her pale face, and they briefly flickered to Misaki, as if to make sure that he was seeing the same thing she was. 

“In the flesh!” Mr. Isaka said cheerily. “Sorry for startling you, I didn’t see you come in. I’m supposed to have lunch with the production team about the movie adaptation of The Box that Houses the Moon, but I thought I’d get some coffee first.” 

Suddenly, comprehension clicked, and Misaki’s lungs had air in them. 

“Mr. Isaka, what year do you think it is?” 

Isaka chuckled, starting to look slightly uncomfortable as the tension in the room didn’t fade. He looked to Aikawa-san, but she only stared back with shocked eyes. 

“It’s 2018, of course.” 

Aikawa-san burst into tears. 

Mr. Isaka jolted, his hands flying up as though to console her, but that was the last thing Misaki saw. He ran, only vaguely registering that he had lost his grip on his own coffee cup as he flew through the hallways. 

The entire building was in chaos. Every corner he turned brought a new assault of shrieks and sobs and confused yells as coworkers and friends who had been long dead and gone suddenly appeared in the exact spot they had vanished five years earlier. 

Even in the pandemonium, it wasn’t until the elevators were in sight that he was forced to slow down. A hand latched onto his forearm, pulling him from his path and swinging him around to a familiar face. 

“Misaki! What’s going on, are you alright?” Ijuuin asked, his face creased in concern. 

“Kyou!” Misaki yelped, his brain finally catching up with his feet. “I have to get home. I have to get home. Please help me!” 

Understanding flashed in Kyou’s dark eyes and he pulled Misaki to the elevators, never letting go of his hand. As the doors opened and they jumped inside, Misaki managed to gasp out what had happened in the break room. Kyou only nodded, and confirmed that a similar scene had played out as he was leaving a meeting. 

Misaki tried to control his breathing as the elevator started down, at the speed of a snail in his opinion. Kyou’s grip on his hand tightened, grounding him, and his chest tightened at the gesture. 

“This isn’t a dream, right?” Misaki asked, a little desperately. 

It felt like a dream. How could they be back? How could everyone just reappear? And if it had happened at Marukawa, that had to mean that it had happened everywhere else too, right? 

Had he come back too? 

\----------------------------

The drive was horrendously slow. 

MIsaki could barely stand it, his leg bouncing with frantic energy as Kyou made his way through the streets as quickly as he could. Even as his head spun in a whirlwind of hope and fear, Misaki couldn’t help but feel a swell of affection for the man next to him. Ijuuin had already done so much, and here he was coming to the rescue once more. Guilt prickled him at the thought. 

“Misaki.” 

Kyou’s voice broke through his thoughts, and Misaki looked at him with startled eyes. Kyou glanced away from the road for a moment, and smiled softly at him. 

“You’re doing it again. Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

Misaki blinked back tears at the familiar question, one he had heard so many times over the last five years. Just another way that Kyou had helped him. 

“I’m frightened.” 

Kyou’s expression didn’t change, but Misaki couldn’t help but think that his eyes looked sad. Still, he didn’t speak. He just focused on the road, waiting for the rest. Misaki’s tongue started to run on its own. 

“What if this is all some dream? What if he isn’t there? What if he is? Will you be all right? You’ve helped me so much. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Misaki bit his tongue, his chest heaving as he tried to control his emotions. Kyou’s hand slipped into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Thank you for telling me. The most important thing right now, is that we get there. Everything else can wait.” 

\-----------------------------

Misaki barely slowed to remove his shoes once he was through the elevator doors, kicking them off in his haste. He skidded to a stop in front of the door, throwing it open with a bang. 

“Usagi-san,” Misaki yelled. “Akihiko, are you-” 

His voice choked in his throat as a man stood from the couch, phone in hand, the familiar form taking his breath away. 

All higher thought abandoned him the moment their eyes met, freezing him in place. He could see every shift, every flicker of emotion that passed over his dead lover’s face as Usagi looked at him for the first time in five years. His purple eyes widened, mouth going slack in shock and confusion as they stared at one another. 

“Misaki?” 

Misaki felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. 

Usagi didn’t recognize him. 

Of all the things that could have happened, this was the last thing he had considered. 

He could feel the weight of Usagi’s gaze as he took him in, suddenly realizing what he must look like in Usagi’s eyes. Gone were the comfortable jeans and sweaters Usagi normally saw him wear. Gone was the long hair Usagi had played with so often. Gone were the soft lines of his face, worn away by grief. 

Maybe he was the ghost. 

Then, Usagi’s hands were cupping his face and Misaki was sobbing. Tears obscured his vision, and Misaki furiously blinked them away so that he could see Usagi’s face. He didn’t care how differently Usagi must be looking at him right now, he just wanted to see him. 

“Misaki. Misaki. Misaki.” 

Misaki knew that Usagi was trying to comfort him, but hearing him say his name only made things worse. Five years' worth of grief was pouring from his heart, and he couldn’t stop crying. He could only cling to Usagi's wrists, helpless. 

The smell of cigarettes that had faded from the apartment over the years assaulted his nose as Usagi began peppering his face with kisses. Each tear was kissed away, and Misaki could vaguely hear Usagi’s voice rumble through the air, though he couldn’t understand what he was saying. 

“Usagi,” Misaki whimpered. He knew he should be mortified at how pathetic he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. Usagi was the only cure for the pain that was ripping through him. 

Immediately, Usagi’s lips pressed against his, rough and earnest. 

Like that night so long ago, when they had stood together under a streetlamp in the snow, his tears stopped immediately. His breath, which had been coming in shuddering gasps, quieted. 

Much too soon, Usagi pulled away. Before Misaki could protest, Usagi pulled him into his chest, cradling him as his fingers buried in his hair. 

“Misaki, talk to me.” 

Misaki shuddered and tucked his face into Usagi’s chest. He could feel Usagi’s heart pounding beside his ear. He couldn't even begin to think of what to say, and nothing would be getting past the lump in his throat if he could.

“You’ve been gone,” Kyou said from behind him. 

Misaki felt Usagi stiffen. He tried to pull back so he could see his face, but Usagi's arms tightened almost vice-like around him, keeping him close. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Ijuuin, but I would ask that you leave my home.” Usagi snapped. 

“Usagi-san, no,” Misaki protested, tipping his chin up as much as he could. “He’s the reason I got here so fast.” 

Usagi’s eyes flickered down to him, knocking the breath out of him once more. Another kiss, harsher than the last, was the only response he got. 

“Misaki,” Kyou sounded amused, “Will you be all right if I go?” 

A low growl rumbled from Usagi’s throat. Misaki tried to ignore the thrill that shot through his body at the show of possessiveness. He never thought he’d feel it again. 

“Yes.” He hated how breathless he sounded. He turned his head as much as he could, so that he could at least look his best friend in the eye. 

“I’ll go pick up Mahiro.” Kyou said, ignoring Usagi completely. “He can stay with me tonight. Transportation might be a little tricky right now, but I’ll try to get word to Osaka as soon as possible so they know he’s safe. Your brother must be worried sick.” 

“Mahiro?” Usagi interrupted, his brow creasing. “Is something wrong with Takahiro?” 

Panic jolted through Misaki at the reminder of his nephew, but it vanished as he realized what Kyou was saying. 

“Takahiro!” Misaki yelped, twisting wildly from Usagi’s grip. “Takahiro is back! Manami and Takahiro!” 

Kyou’s dark eyes gleamed, and he nodded. “I’ll book us a passage as soon as possible.” 

“If Misaki needs to travel to Osaka, I will accompany him,” Usagi said coldly. “Now, either explain what you’re doing here, or get out.” 

Kyou’s face sharpened, and Misaki flinched. Very few things made Ijuuin lose his kind demeanor in front of him. Unfortunately, it appeared that Usagi-san was still one of them. 

“I’m here because half of the world vanished five years ago, Usami-san.” Kyou drew himself up, his eyes sparking. “Half of the world, including yourself, Takahiro, and Manami. Misaki has suffered a great deal in the last five years, and I do not take kindly to your words.” 

The silence was deafening. 

Misaki couldn’t tear his eyes away from Usagi’s face as he processed what Kyou had said to him. He could see Usagi weighing each of Kyou's words, searching them for truth. Finding it in how different Misaki must look. How empty the apartment must have felt when he reappeared. 

“Kyochan,” Misaki said, breaking the silence. “Thank you for bringing me here. Please, make sure that Mahiro is all right. I’ll take care of Usagi-san.” 

“Do you want me to tell him about his parents?” Kyou asked, pulling Misaki’s gaze away from Usagi. He considered it, thinking of Mahiro’s eager face. 

“I’ll tell him myself.” 

Kyou nodded approvingly, and bowed to Usagi. 

“I’ll leave you alone then. It’s good to see you again, Usami-san. For Misaki’s sake.” 

And just like that, Kyou was gone. 

Misaki watched the door swing shut behind him, suddenly nervous. Usagi hadn’t said a word, and the silence between them suddenly felt enormous. 

He must have so many questions. He was probably very confused. Maybe even angry. Did Usagi-san even want to be alone with him right now? Misaki couldn’t bring himself to turn around, but he could sense the tension behind him growing stronger by the second. 

“Kyochan?” Usagi repeated, his voice low and deadly. 

What? 

Misaki whirled around, his thoughts scattering as he gaped at Usagi. That’s what he was worried about? One of the men Usagi hated the most had just dropped the bomb that Usagi had missed the last five years of their lives, and the first thing he asked about was Kyou’s pet name? 

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Misaki said weakly. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised, this was Usagi after all. “He’s my friend. A lot of things happened while you were gone, and I-” 

“Did he touch you?” Usagi demanded, his eyes blazing. 

Misaki flushed furiously and turned his head so that he didn’t have to look Usagi in the eye. 

His relationship with Kyou had lasted less than two years, and they had only been intimate once. His grief and guilt had been so strong that he had almost ceased to function for weeks afterwards. Misaki had officially broken up with him not long after that, though Kyou had never truly left his side. 

But how could he make Usagi understand that? Pursuing another relationship suddenly seemed like the greatest act of betrayal he could have committed. Would Usagi even want him now that he’d been with another man? And not just any man. Mr. Ijuuin. But, then again, what right did Usagi have to judge him?

“You were dead,” Misaki muttered, tears pricking his eyes. He closed them tightly and turned away. 

He felt, more than heard, Usagi close the space between them. He breathed in sharply as Usagi’s cold hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against his body. The touch was so achingly familiar that Misaki choked down a sob. 

“Is that all?” Usagi nuzzled his temple, and Misaki’s breath stuttered as his teeth pulled on the shell of his ear. 

Then, Usagi’s words registered. 

Suddenly, every buried memory of how infuriating Usagi-san could be rushed to the forefront of his mind. 

“Is that all?!” Misaki shrieked, writhing in Usagi’s unrelenting grip. “Is that all?! Usagi-san you are the biggest idiot I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. Let go of me!” 

His world suddenly upended as Usagi threw him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing. Misaki thrashed and slapped at Usagi’s back, trying to kick his way free. 

“PUT ME DOWN! Usagi-san you moron, you better let me down right now! I’m leaving!” 

They were halfway up the stairs before he realized that, one, Usagi was laughing, and two, they were heading for Usagi’s room. 

“Woah, wait. Usagi! Stop laughing! What’s so funny, huh?!” 

Usagi tossed him unceremoniously on the neatly-made bed. A bed that hadn’t been touched since Misaki had switched the sheets out a few months before. The whole room smelled of disuse. That was the last thing on his mind though, as Usage swooped down on him, pinning his wrists to the mattress. 

“Five years, and you’re still as adorable as ever,” Usagi murmured, his eyes gleaming. 

“Am not,” Misaki huffed, embarrassingly out of breath. Usagi’s lips ghosted over his nose, his forehead, his cheekbones, too light to be a kiss. 

“Adorable,” Usagi repeated dismissively. Then, his purple eyes bored into his with an intensity that froze him in place. “But you’ve forgotten something, Misaki.” 

“What?” Misaki squeaked. 

“You’re mine for life,” Usagi said, his grip on Misaki’s wrists tightening. “That includes yours.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning. Usagi starts to understand how Misaki has changed, and how he hasn't.

When Usagi woke, it was to an empty bed. 

The sheets were tousled, but the space that Misaki should have occupied was cold. That bothered him more than anything else, even as the memories of the last day washed over him. 

One moment he had been sitting on the couch, going over manuscripts with Aikawa-san while Misaki clattered around the kitchen. The next, the apartment was empty. Perfectly clean, but dark and devoid of life. There had been no sign of Misaki anywhere. 

It was one of his worst nightmares come to life. 

He’d checked every room before it occurred to him to try and call someone. Only, the house phone was gone. The table where it had sat was empty. Luckily his cell phone was in his pocket, but no matter what he tried, it wouldn’t connect. 

He had almost convinced himself that this was some particularly realistic hallucination when he’d heard the front door open, and Misaki had crashed through the door. 

Only, it hadn’t been his Misaki. 

Or, rather, it was his Misaki. There was not a single version of Misaki that wasn’t his. But this Misaki looked at him as though he had seen a ghost. His eyes had been so full of pain that it had stunned him. Not even the haircut or tailored clothing could distract him from his lover’s eyes. Misaki should never look like that. 

Usagi stared blankly at the empty space on the bed, rubbing at his mouth.

Five years. 

Five years without him had made Misaki look like that. Had made Misaki sob like a child from receiving a simple touch. Everything had been wrong. Misaki’s tears, the presence of that damned Ijuuin, everything. 

The only thing that convinced him that this was not just some elaborate dream was Misaki’s reaction once they were alone again. His weak defense of the manga author, and then his furious reaction when Usagi had pushed him on it, that had been right. The love they had made had felt right. 

Five years he had been gone. 

It was baffling to consider. How could five years vanish in the time it took to snap one’s fingers? 

Five years he had been gone, and Misaki had been alone. Now he was here, and Misaki was gone. 

That needed to be rectified as soon as possible. 

Preferably forever. 

The smell of something cooking hit his nose, and Usagi threw off the blankets. There was really only one course of action. Kiss Misaki within an inch of his life the moment he found him, and then never let go of him until he forgot he had ever been gone. That was his usual agenda, if he was completely honest with himself, but today he intended to follow through. 

Misaki’s voice met him the moment he opened the bedroom door, as well as the familiar sounds of breakfast, and Usagi paused to take in the sight. 

Misaki was stirring something briskly, phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear as he worked. Usagi wasn’t above admitting that Misaki was not exceptionally handsome, but watching him move around his kitchen with an old apron over yesterday’s business clothes made his heart pound a little faster. 

“You don’t need to do that,” Misaki assured whoever he was talking to. “Given the circumstances, I’m sure he’ll come over. I need to make arrangements for Mahiro, anyways. I’m sure you can work out the details with him once he’s awake.” 

Misaki deftly poured whatever he’d been stirring into a frying pan, and huffed a laugh at whatever reply he had received. Usagi felt a hot surge of jealousy bubble in his gut as he started down the stairs. 

It was his job to make Misaki laugh. He’d better not be talking to that damn manga author. 

Misaki caught sight of him then, and Usagi couldn’t help but be appeased at how his face immediately lit up. Misaki quickly set aside his bowl and grasped at the phone instead. 

“Excuse me, Haruhiko-san. I’ll call you when I know more. I have to go now.” Misaki abruptly hung up. 

Usagi quickly closed the distance between them. He didn’t like the nervous way Misaki watched him approach, or the fact that Misaki had apparently been chatting with his older brother instead of staying in bed with him, but he ignored that in in favor of pulling him into a deep kiss. 

Misaki made a little startled noise that only fueled Usagi’s determination to make Misaki completely forget the last five years. After a moment, Misaki hesitantly parted his lips to let in Usagi’s probing tongue. He wiggled and pushed against his chest, but it was only when he moved to press kisses to his neck and jaw that Misaki managed to speak. 

“Usagi-san, the food is going to burn.” 

Usagi hummed, not particularly interested in this argument, and focused instead on sucking a mark into the smooth skin beneath Misaki’s ear. He grinned when Misaki jolted at the sensation, and immediately started on another. 

“I had to go to the--ah, _Usagi_ \--to the store super early to get all this.” Misaki gasped out. “You should be grateful. There wasn’t a— _gah, stop_ \-- speck of food in this apartment.” 

“I can buy more food,” Usagi said, biting gently at the pulse point that was thrumming in Misaki’s neck. Misaki shuddered, but it wasn’t enough to distract him. He’d have to try harder, then. 

“Actually, you can’t buy much of anything at the moment. As far as the bank is concerned, you died five years ago. All your money was given back to the Usami family. I just got off the phone with Haruhiko, though. He promised that he’d figure it out.” 

“Then he’ll figure it out,” Usagi reasoned. He could easily earn back whatever he had lost, even without his brother’s help. 

Misaki somehow managed to spin around and flick off the burner, saving what appeared to be a half-cooked omelet from a charred fate. Usagi took advantage of this new position and snuck his hands up Misaki’s shirt. Misaki whined and tried to twist away from his cold hands, unconsciously grinding against him. 

Usagi was about ten seconds away from taking Misaki right there in the kitchen when a chime echoed through the apartment. Misaki darted away before Usagi could tighten his grip, the back of his neck flushing scarlet as he went to answer the door. 

“That’ll be Kyou. He said he’d bring Mahiro by before he went to work. I talked with Takahiro this morning, and they should be arriving sometime this afternoon.” 

Usagi’s mood immediately soured. 

Not only was Misaki ignoring him, he was ignoring him in favor of Mahiro and Ijuuin. And apparently, Haruhiko and Takahiro as well. Was Sumi coming over for tea? Maybe his cousins were hiding in the bathroom? Had Misaki even slept last night? Or had he spent the whole night planning ways to ruin Usagi’s plans to ravish him? 

Usagi grumbled to himself, and paused in the living room entrance. Misaki opened the front door and was immediately assaulted by a tiny shape. 

“Ojisan!” 

Misaki laughed and swept up the small boy, ruthlessly tickling his sides until he shrieked with laughter. 

Usagi watched, stunned, as Misaki gently set Mahiro down, pressing a kiss into the boy’s dark hair. Takahiro’s son was already to Misaki’s waist, and looked up at him with adoring eyes. Misaki had always doted on the toddler, but in that moment, he looked paternal in a way that Usagi had never seen before. 

Misaki had grown. Misaki had forged other relationships and become a father for his nephew. His eyes held a weight and grief that they had not before, but Usagi had rarely seen him as happy as he looked now. 

Misaki was beautiful. 

“What's your name?” 

Usagi jolted from his thoughts. 

Mahiro was looking up at him with interest. Apparently, the foreboding aura that Usagi tried to exude towards children was having little effect. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see Misaki turn from where he had been greeting Ijuuin at the door. Before Usagi could gather his thoughts, another voice answered. 

“That’s Ojisan’s Usagi.” 

There was a pause. Usagi stared at Ijuuin, unable to believe what had just come from the man’s mouth. Misaki, he noticed, was staring too. 

Mahiro clapped his hands together, paying them no mind. “You have all the bears! Misaki lets me play with them when we come to clean. Hey, why don’t you ever clean your own house? Misaki has to do it all by himself.” 

Misaki cleared his throat, his eyes suspiciously bright. 

“I told you, Mahiro. Usagi-san had to go away for a while.” 

Mahiro looked unimpressed by this argument. 

“Well, he can clean his own house now. Then you won’t be sad anymore.” 

With that, Mahiro pushed past Usagi into the apartment. Presumably in search of a bear. 

“Misaki, I think Mahiro just fired you as Usagi’s maid.” Ijuuin said finally, and Misaki laughed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the end of the story, but I figured I'd left this story alone for too long. Thank you for leaving those kind comments! I wasn't really expecting any on this story, so I'm glad you found it intriguing :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misaki is Struggling TM and Ijuuin pays Usagi a visit.

Usagi took a deep draw of his cigarette and leaned against the balcony railing. The first stars were beginning to appear, and the city was alive with light. The cigarette and view were doing little to soothe the unease that was plaguing him. 

Maybe it was just a side effect from losing five years. Delayed shock, or something like it. 

It had been a week now. 

A week of trying to catch Misaki. To have more than a few minutes alone with him so they could talk. To get to know the man his lover had become without him. 

Misaki had always been one to dodge away from expressing his thoughts and feelings, but it seems that his skill in doing so had increased with time. 

To be fair, Takahiro and Manami were guilty in this as well. They had reappeared in Osaka to find their home occupied by strangers and their son missing. They had come as quickly as they could, and Misaki’s apartment didn’t have space for guests. It was hard to get any time alone with two guests and a six-year-old boy running around. 

But now they were gone. 

Arrangements had been made, accommodation found, and tickets purchased. Misaki had gone to see them off at the station, and Usagi doubted that he would return tonight. He had done a good job of hiding it, but Usagi could see how hard it was for him to let Mahiro go. The two of them had been practically inseparable the whole week. 

Usagi understood. Or, he tried to. 

For the last four years of his life, Misaki had been the dominating force. His center. Everything he had done revolved around keeping Misaki by his side, and expressing his adoration for him. Embarrassing statements of heterosexuality, not to mention his knack of attracting other men, and all. 

Misaki had never been like that. He had always been pulled in a dozen different directions by his love for his family, his job, his friends. No matter what Usagi did to make himself the focus of Misaki’s life, he had always been tugged away. 

Now, Misaki was doing it himself. 

And Usagi couldn’t figure out why. 

Misaki wanted him. He could tell from the longing in his eyes and the way he responded to Usagi’s touch, as little as it had been over the past week. Yet, he always pulled away. Something was making him hold back. 

There was always something making Misaki hold back. 

A gentle knock sounded from the glass door. 

Usagi turned, daring to hope that Misaki had returned. Ever since that first night, Misaki had found reasons to sleep in his own apartment. That rejection stung more than he cared to admit. 

It wasn’t Misaki. 

Mr. Ijuuin stood on the threshold, framed by the light spilling out of the apartment. 

Usagi turned back to the view, and took another drag from his cigarette. He had no patience to deal with Kyo Ijuuin at the moment. Or with the fact that Misaki had apparently given the man a key to their apartment at some point. 

If Ijuuin was offended by his blatant disregard, he didn’t show it. The tall man stepped further onto the balcony, sliding the door shut behind him. 

“I’m sorry to disturb you at home, Usami-san.” 

Usagi paid him no mind, focusing instead on blowing a steady stream of smoke. 

Ijuuin leaned back on his elbows against the balcony railing, his head lolling as he looked up at the darkened sky. The light of the city caught on the delicate lines of his face, and he looked utterly relaxed. Usagi knew that his own features were striking, if unusual, but he felt a surge of resentment for Ijuuin’s traditional beauty. He often wondered if that was a part of Misaki’s infatuation with the man. 

They stood in silence for several minutes. Long enough that his cigarette burned through, and had been ground into ash between his fingers. 

Ijuuin had surprised him. 

It still made his blood boil whenever Misaki interacted with him, but something was different. His love for Misaki was still obvious, at least to Usagi, but it was softer. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t articulate why he felt a tinge of sympathy towards him.

It irritated him.

Usagi turned and strode back into the apartment. Heart to hearts on the balcony were something that happened in his novels, or with Misaki. If Ijuuin had something to say, it could be said from the couch. 

“I'm sure you have questions,” Ijuuin said from behind him as he followed. “Questions about Misaki, and everything that has happened in these years you’ve been gone.” 

“I think I’ll just ask Misaki about it,” Usagi said flatly. 

Ijuuin sat down on the sofa with a familiarity that made his skin crawl, and looked up at him with that same infuriatingly polite expression that Usagi hated so much. 

“You should ask him about it of course, when he’s ready. But there are things that he would never tell you. Things you should know.” 

Misaki’s absence suddenly weighed heavily on him. If he were here, he’d be fluttering around nervously, offering to make tea and trying to soften Usagi’s words. It had only been a few hours since Misaki had left and he already needed a recharge. 

“I’ll try to be brief. Misaki can fill you in on the rest later, but I’ll try to cover the details I imagine you’d be most interested to know.” 

“I suppose this is where you tell me that you are the one responsible for supporting Misaki through this time in his life? That without you, he never would have made it?” 

“No, that honor belongs to Mahiro.” Usagi blinked at the frank honesty, but Ijuuin continued before he could respond.

“Though, I will say my contribution was certainly significant. I do not say this to brag, Usami-san. If I could go back and prevent Misaki from having to go through any of this, I would. However, that doesn’t diminish the fact that I am the one who knows Misaki better than anyone else at this time. Believe it or not, I am trying to help you.” 

Usagi’s fingers twitched, itching for another cigarette. 

As much as he hated to admit it, Ijuuin was right. Misaki's affection for the man had clearly deepened from that of an awe-struck fan to something much more real. That level of familiarity only came with time and intimacy. Something they'd had five years of.

His mouth tightened at the thought.

He needed to know what had happened. Misaki, for whatever reason, was avoiding this exact conversation. Five years was far too long to be away from the one you loved, and the absolute dearth of information he'd been running on for the last week was starting to make him a little desperate.

He needed answers. Even if they had to come from Ijuuin.

Ijuuin watched him steadily as he considered his options. His own distaste for the conversation was obvious in the twist of his lips. Oddly enough, the confirmation that Ijuuin still despised him convinced him. So much had changed in just a few days that this small familiarity was bizarrely comforting.

Usagi leaned back against the cushions and waved his hand for Ijuuin to continue. Just because he needed to hear what he had to say didn't mean he had to be polite. 

Ijuuin sighed and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“Misaki took custody of Mahiro within the week.” 

“Haruhiko asked Misaki to bring Mahiro and live with him at the Usami estate, but he declined. He asked instead that Haruhiko continue to pay the rent on this apartment. He couldn’t bear to stay in it alone, but he couldn’t let it go into the hands of strangers either. 

He found an apartment that was suitable for Mahiro on the east side of the city and devoted himself to raising him. I don’t know what he would have done if he hadn’t had to take care of that boy.” 

Usagi's heart sank at the implications. When he had first begun to pursue Misaki, he would have been delighted to hear that Misaki was devastated by his loss. Now, he could only remember how Misaki had clung to him, body shaking with tears.

“I courted Misaki in earnest about three years ago. He had finally started to recover from the shock of losing you, and Mahiro was old enough that he could start to open himself up to new relationships. We dated for a little over a year. That was probably the best year of my life, but in the end, Misaki couldn’t let you go. We were briefly intimate, but he broke off the relationship not long after.” 

“He became my editor, so we still have a very close personal and professional relationship. We both came out publicly about two years ago. We had already broken off our relationship at that point, but people still talk." 

Usagi could feel his hands tightening into fists with each word. Distantly, he recognized that the Ijuuin of five years ago would have lorded each detail over him. Not given this blunt, almost surgically concise explanation. 

“I love him, Mr. Usami.” Ijuuin said plainly. “I always have. I think I always will. He loves me in return, but losing you broke his heart in a way that I couldn't heal. I was sure that, with time, Misaki would have learned to let you go. But it seems that fate had other plans.” 

“Now, as someone who cares deeply for Misaki, I’d like to give you some advice.” 

Usagi scowled at Ijuuin, abruptly glad that Misaki was not here so that he could speak his mind. “If you intend to warn me against hurting Misaki, you’ll be wasting your breath.” 

Ijuuin returned the glare. “I don’t think I will. You may be his love, Usami-san, but I know him better in this moment than anyone else in the world. If you don’t handle this correctly, you are going to hurt him terribly. In the past you have shown a blatant disregard for his feelings and concerns regarding your relationship. That may have worked when he was financially and socially dependent on you, not to mention the broad disparity in your age, but no longer.” 

Usagi surged to his feet, towering over the other man and feeling a bit of relief at the fact.

"I would be very careful, Mr. Ijuuin, about what you say next. I have never dismissed Misaki's feelings. No relationship is without problems, but some issues can not be so easily resolved."

"No?" Ijuuin picked idly at his nails. "Then why is it that Misaki has been able to resolve every single source of conflict once you were gone?"

The words hit him like a slap to the face.

"Misaki has worked his way into a stable job with a livable income. He's now loved as both a son and brother in the Usami household, and any doubts as to his ability or worthiness there have been forgotten. His sexuality is no longer a secret. He has the freedom to go anywhere, and with anyone, without fearing the repercussions of an insecure partner. The gap in your ages has even been resolved. And, perhaps the most miraculous of it all, he has even learned to trust his friends enough that he no longer feels he is a burden to them."

"Misaki was never a burden to me!" Usagi nearly shouted, his heart pounding deafeningly in his ears.

Ijuuin was on his feet in an instant, eyes flashing.

"Only because you treated him less as a partner and more as a pet." He spat. "He is too good to go back to that kind of relationship. If you don't prove to him that you are willing to change just as much as he has, then you are going to lose him."

"I will not lose him to _you_ , Ijuuin."

Ijuuin stared at him for a moment. Then, he laughed. Disturbed at the change, Usagi's anger simmered down.

"Oh, Usami-san. Misaki can't be taken, given, or lost to anyone. He would leave you on his own. He knows now, thanks to me, what he deserves from a relationship. Whether he came to me or chose another path entirely would be up to him."

Usagi watched as Ijuuin slumped back down on the couch, looking exhausted in a way that nagged at him in its familiarity. This time though, he knew what it reminded him of. It was an expression he'd seen on his own face far too often during the years he'd been infatuated with Takahiro. Was that who Misaki was to Ijuuin? Was Misaki his Takahiro? The novelist in him was reeling with the parallels in their stories, but Ijuuin paid no mind to his private revelation.

“Deep down, Misaki knows your love for him was real. However, his doubts concerning your relationship are suddenly returning, and increasing by the hour. He is not the same person you knew just a week ago. He realizes that he is different from the boy you remember. What he doesn't know is if you will love who he's become without you."

“He has his own life now, Usami-san. You need to show him that you accept that, or he will never let go of his doubt.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang, that got more intense than I meant it to. Though, I think it accurately sums up my frustrations with the canon. 
> 
> I want to make it clear that, although Misaki claims in the show that Usagi has never done anything without his consent, Usagi's behaviour is predatory and controlling, and he regularly initiates sexual behaviour that Misaki is not 100% on board with. This is absolutely unacceptable and wrong. In this version, Misaki did not speak to Ijuuin about any instances of Usagi's borderline sexual assault, otherwise Ijuuin would have brought it up as well.
> 
> Sorry it's been so long! I'd been working two jobs but I just barely finished my bachelors, so I should have a lot more time to write now. Thank you so much for the reviews. I treasure each of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more of Misaki's POV. I've been neglecting him, poor thing.

“I want to see your apartment.” 

Misaki froze, the breeze tugging at the dried sheets he was pulling from the clothesline. Usagi had been hovering, morning cigarette in hand, as Misaki tackled another round of self-appointed chores. It was the easiest way, he had found, to justify being around the apartment and soothe the persistent anxiety that Usagi was going to disappear at any moment. A way to show how much he cared. 

Ironically, it was also good because it kept him occupied and away from Usagi. 

Half of him wanted to latch onto Usagi and never let him out of his sight ever again. The other kept agonizing over the appraising looks he had caught Usagi giving him over the past week. Like he had never seen Misaki before, and didn’t know what to make of him. 

It was coming. 

Usagi was realizing that he had become a different person overnight. That time and hardship had molded him into someone new. It would be too much. Usagi was going to let him go. He just didn’t know when, or how. 

Would Usagi simply distance himself? He had done something similar in the past. Then again, one time Usagi had suggested that he get his own apartment out of the blue. That had turned out to be because of something his old sensei had said, but he had still done it. 

How long did he have? How long would Usagi tolerate him coming over every day, but slipping to his own empty apartment every night? He was proud of who he’d become, even if the circumstances were horrible, but he wasn’t ready to go through another heartbreak. 

Misaki turned and blinked at Usagi. “My apartment?” 

Usagi was absently grinding the butt of his cigarette under his shoe as he pulled out a fresh one. That wasn’t good. Consecutive cigarettes meant Usagi was nervous, or worried about something. 

“Why?” Misaki pressed, when Usagi didn’t answer. 

“I want to see where you’re running off to every night.” 

Misaki grimaced at the basket of linens as he bent over to pick it up. 

That was fair. Except, he wasn’t sure if he _wanted_ Usagi to see his apartment. It was where he had fought through a cloud of grief and depression as he tried to be a good guardian to Mahiro and put his life back together. 

“It’s nothing impressive.” 

He moved to step inside, but Usagi was quicker. The basket was pulled from his hands and tossed aside, scattering linens everywhere. 

“Usagi, what the-” Misaki complained, only to be cut off as Usagi’s lips captured his. Cool hands pushed him against the warm glass of the door, a pleasant contrast as Usagi trapped him in place. Misaki gasped when Usagi’s tongue swept across his lower lip, which he took as an invitation to enter. His hands flexed uselessly in Usagi’s grip. 

It took everything he had not to reciprocate as strongly as he wanted. Usagi always did this. He always used physical affection to try and gloss over things he was worried about, or when he was stressed. If he was only doing this because he couldn’t come to terms with their new situation, then Misaki didn’t want to enable him. 

He nipped Usagi’s bottom lip, hard. Usagi jolted, a small noise of surprise in his throat. Misaki took advantage of his shock and twisted away from him, trying to blink away tears as he started for the door. He felt a little bad for leaving the sheets scattered on the floor, but that was Usagi’s problem. He didn’t live here anymore; he didn’t have to help. 

“Misaki, wait-” 

“I’ve got to get back and pack up the rest of Mahiro’s stuff to ship to Osaka.” 

This had been a bad idea. Cleaning and cooking for Usagi was something the old Misaki had done, it wasn’t his place to do that now. He shouldn't slip back into old habits. Not if they were going to move past this. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Misaki paused, his outstretched fingers just brushing the keys he’d left on the table. Sorry? Usagi never apologized. For anything. He braced himself for Usagi’s hand to clamp down on his arm or wrist, but Usagi didn’t move from behind him. 

Misaki took a deep breath through his nose, and turned back. 

Usagi’s fingers were clenched around his cigarette, crushing it. His body was so tense, he looked ready to snap, but he didn’t move, eyes burning a hole in Misaki’s face. He’d seen Usagi agonize over a few lines of dialogue for hours, sometimes days, but he’d never seen him like this. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Misaki blurted. His therapist’s ears were probably burning somewhere, but damn it, he wasn’t the one who needed help at the moment. Usagi was just as bad as him. “Please, Usagi.” 

Usagi blinked and looked down at the cigarette he was mangling. He flicked it out the door onto the balcony and stepped closer. 

“Do you remember when you first saw this apartment, and I told you why I had so many toys lying around?” 

Misaki blinked. That. . . was not what he had been expecting. Stupid Usagi. 

“Yeah. You were trying to recreate what it meant to grow up in a middle-class family, so your writing would be better.” 

Usagi nodded seriously, his hand coming up to trace the line of Misaki’s jaw. Usagi’s eyes flicked down to follow the motion of his throat as he swallowed, but met his eyes again. 

“That was only part of the truth. I wanted this apartment to feel more like a home. But no matter how many toys I bought, it never felt that way until you moved in with me.” 

Misaki’s breath hitched, and he felt the familiar burning in his eyes. Usagi leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together so he could nuzzle at him. 

“I love you, Misaki. Please let me see the place you’ve made your home.” 

That was just unfair. 

Misaki felt his eyes drift start to drift shut, almost against his will as he pressed forward. Only to jolt to a stop when the unexpected texture of paper pressed against his lips. He pulled back, looking curiously at the slip of paper Usagi had wiggled between them. 

“Besides, I have a coupon here for one free tour of Misaki’s apartment. It was quite lucky that I found it.” 

Misaki slowly pulled his gaze from the—unfortunately-- familiar pattern of the paper Usagi had shoved in his face to glare at him. The worst part was, Misaki could tell he was being completely serious. 

“That _is_ lucky.” 

“I thought so too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I'm a liar, there actually will be one more chapter after this one. I was going to fit my concluding scenes all in one, but it felt right to cut it here. Sorry it's so short!


End file.
